The Young Investigator
by Drummers
Summary: Young Timothy Quirrel wants some experience in Defence Against the Dark Arts... when he seeks out Remus Lupin, he gets something entirely different... Finished.


A/N: This was inspired by some clips from slashy films with Ian Hart (Prof Quirrel) and David Thewlis (Remus Lupin), and a forum friend mentioning that they both have very kissable lips...

**The Young Investigator**  
  
It was an early morning in the spring of 1990. Remus Lupin was having breakfast in the small cottage he occupied on the moment. Sharp rays of sunshine fell through the ragged curtains. His chair creaked. All in all, Remus mused, this was just the usual kind of living space for him. The only differences with the last few apartments and small homes, were the view, the look of the cottage on the outside – it was very, very pretty – and the fact that he was all alone this time. No sharing rooms with ignorant Muggles, no fear of housemistresses who wanted a little more than rent from him because their husbands were gone all day.  
  
He was awoken from his ponderings by a knock on the door. He left his breakfast cereals for what they were and went to open the door. He was very puzzled. No one ever came to visit him, even if they had his address.  
  
When he opened the door, he looked into the apprehensive face of a young man. The young man wasn't very tall compared to Remus – but then, who was, apart from Sirius Black? – and his eyes were large and brown. Remus found the wide-eyed expression somewhat endearing, but he had to cough to make the young man remember to introduce himself.  
  
"Oh, oh, sorry," he said breathlessly. "My name is Timothy Quirrel. I start as Hogwarts's new teacher Defence Against the Dark Arts next year, and I wanted to get some real practical experience before I start." He held out his hand. Remus shook it, dreading what was to inevitably come next.  
  
"I learned from some Ministry files that you are a werewolf," Timothy Quirrel babbled on. Remus looked up and down the small village street a few times, worried that someone might hear. The ease with which this Timothy Quirrel had named Remus's disease had baffled him.  
  
"Please, let's not talk out here," Remus said, still frowning. "Come in."  
  
He led the way into the small living room. An old settee with a fading flowered pattern dominated the room. They sat down on it, careful to take their own side. Remus offered the young man some tea, and they sat in silence for a moment, until Remus thought he had waited long enough.  
  
"What's your purpose in seeking me out?" Remus asked directly. Timothy nearly choked on his tea, and put the cup down.  
  
"Well, as I'd told you, I'd heard you're a werewolf," he said. "I just wanted to know what it's really like, being a werewolf... I've heard plenty of stories from the side of the Ministry, but I've never heard a word against that from an actual werewolf..." His voice trailed of, and he looked expectantly up at Remus, with those large brown eyes. They made Remus think of a Spaniel his mother used to keep.  
  
He sipped from his tea, deep in thought. "There's a lot I can say," he started, staring into space. He hadn't noticed that Timothy had uncovered a notebook and quill from his bag. "First of all," he went on, "there's the Bite that Changes Your Life. After that, there's no way back. In my case, there hadn't been any prevention possible. It was just your random night on a camping holiday. We were in a camping place full of tents, for Merlin's sake! No one could ever have thought that I could be attacked by a – a – a werewolf on my way to the loo... I'm very lucky to have survived that attack."  
  
Remus sat in silence, gathering his thoughts. Timothy had been listening to his every word, and in the process forgotten to write anything down.  
  
Remus cleared his throat, and went on. "I was only a very young boy, and I've had to deal with – it ever since. It grew customary, a habit, though a very, very exhaustive and painful one. My parents kept me indoors, afraid I might infect others. All the while, they kept searching for something like a cure. When I turned eleven, Dumbledore invited us to come to Hogwarts. He had arranged a few things, so I would be able to attend classes just like a normal boy. My parents and I were very happy. My school days were carefree and uneventful compared to other periods in my life, and I even made some friends. Their deaths and disappearances have nothing to do with me being – being – what I am."  
  
Timothy was still looking at him intently, his mouth slightly open. "But – but what is it really like to – you know – transform?" he asked breathlessly.  
  
Remus flinched at the thought of it. "It's very, very painful. As if someone is trying to reshape your body with their bare hands... There's this tearing sensation... It starts with my back... then my arms and legs, but finally, before I forget everything human, there's this horrible sensation in my face... after that, the – the wolf in me takes over..."  
  
Reliving the transformation in thought and word was awful. Remus was shaking all over, on the verge of tears. Timothy still looked at him, now a worried expression on his young face. Remus's mind was racing through two tracks at the same time. "The pain! The agony! Why did I even go this far in telling a complete stranger?!" the one went. "How old would he be? Ten years younger? What would he do when he's not visiting people like me?" the other went.  
  
"I'm sorry," Timothy suddenly said, very softly. "I think I shouldn't have asked you." He put a hand on Remus's shoulder.  
  
Remus's thoughts immediately left their two-tracked road and soared into a speedy one-track. As if they were attracted by a magnet, his thoughts and attention went to the one hand resting on his shoulder. He was being physical with another human being, something Remus had avoided for some ten years.  
  
The hand lay only softly on his shoulder, but every fibre of his body went out to grasp hold of the sensation it gave him. Suddenly, the hand started to stroke him. First just his shoulder, then the other shoulder too, then the rest of his back.  
  
Timothy had noticed that his gesture had calmed Remus. At least he had stopped shaking. Only then, Timothy noticed a strange sensation in his hand. He couldn't tell if it really happened, but his palm felt as if it was heating up, and a tingling sensation spread through his lower arm. A voice in the back of his head told him to pull his arm back, but a voice more in the front argued this, and said it would be interesting to find out where this would lead.  
  
He had never had such feelings before, at least not involving a man. He had felt attracted to girls in the past, but never to boys. This was something completely different.  
  
He let his hand stroke Remus's shoulders. He noticed Remus seemed to like it, because he had grown very quiet, and Timothy knew his attention was now completely on the hand on his shoulders, moving down to the rest of his back, and...  
  
Remus felt the hand tighten around his behind. He gulped. The young man wanted something of him, so much was clear, and he had the feeling he wanted to give it to him. He slowly turned to face Timothy, his breath coming a bit more difficult than before. He could see amazement on Timothy's face, a certain puzzlement at how the young man had possibly gotten it into his head to make such a move on a man obviously more experienced in life.  
  
Remus, in full honesty, didn't have much experience when it came to very physical relationships. Back in his school days, he had tried something with one or two girls, and even a boy, with whom he later did some more. He never felt attracted to other men, just this one, and since he had been out of reach, Remus had been alone, and never sought out men or women again.  
  
This was an opportunity he shouldn't miss. A young man, less experienced than he, wanted to get closer, and Remus knew he needed something, whether it was a man or a woman was not a point to him. He knew what to do with either.  
  
He lend in on Timothy, bringing his face closer to the other's face.  
  
For the merest flash of a second, there was doubt in Timothy's eyes, but it was soon gone and he closed them as Remus's lips touched his.  
  
Their kiss was first soft and apprehensive, but soon more intense. Timothy let his hands roam over Remus's body – who was amused to find that the young man could hold such amazement at another man's body.  
  
Timothy tried to pull Remus's jumper off while they were still entangled in the kiss, and Remus broke free.  
  
He laughed. "That's very eager, my friend," he said, his eyes twinkling brightly. Timothy said nothing but pulled the jumper over Remus's head now that it was possible. Remus laughed again, but his laugh was smothered by Timothy's lips.  
  
They kissed again. This time, Timothy was more self assured. He tried the buttons on Remus's shirt, and managed to unbutton the shirt without breaking the kiss. Remus, meanwhile, had difficulty with keeping himself from laughing – Timothy's fingers tickled him – but he had also started on undressing the other.  
  
When they were both in their underwear and socks, Remus stopped Timothy for a moment. No matter how aroused they both may be, the settee wasn't the best place to go any further. He led Timothy to the small bedroom, in which the previous owner had managed to put one of the largest one-person beds Remus had ever seen. He had been quite pleased with it before, but he was most pleased now.  
  
Timothy sat down on the edge of the bed, and they kissed again. Timothy leaned back into the pillows and softly stroked Remus's chest and hips.  
  
"You're actually quite pretty," Timothy whispered when the kiss had been broken again. Remus smiled and looked down on him. "Even with the scars and all, I mean. Usually, you see scars on rough blokes, but you have them too, and you're all warm and friendly..." His voice trailed off.  
  
"You're very pretty, too," Remus said hoarsely. "I like your eyes very much." Timothy smiled shyly. This was the moment they had been waiting for, and neither of them knew who should start or what they should say or do.  
  
In the end, Remus started it. He leaned in on Timothy again and kissed him full on the mouth. He let his body slowly sink down on Timothy's. Timothy was astounded that, even though Remus was a tall man, he wasn't very heavy. They lay entangled in each other for a moment, when Remus showed the younger man his backside. At first, Timothy didn't know what to do exactly, but he soon understood the hint.  
  
They lie naked on the bed, Remus's back to Timothy's belly. Timothy stroked Remus's belly and chest, down to his belly again and then his private parts. Remus moaned and grabbed Timothy's left upper leg, which lay exposed to the air. Timothy moved just this much closer, and his penis touched Remus's behind. Remus moaned again – Timothy's cue.  
  
Remus concentrated on Timothy's hand, which was still holding his penis, while Timothy was oblivious to everything except his in and outward movement. He had the feeling as if Timothy was behaving as if he was making love to a virgin – careful and considerate.  
  
In a few minutes, Timothy started to tremble violently as he came. He lie exhausted on Remus's back for a few moments, until he had caught his breath again. He turned Remus – who had difficulty breathing himself – on his back, so they came face to face again.  
  
"Did that hurt?" Timothy asked quietly. Remus managed to laugh.  
  
"Just a little, but that's because I haven't done this for a long time," he assured the young man.  
  
"Then I'll make it up to you," said Timothy sweetly, and he started to kiss Remus again.  
  
Remus let Timothy do as the young man went from kissing his lips to kissing his cheek, his earlobe, down to his neck, his chest, his nipples, his bellybutton...  
  
Remus drew in breath sharply as Timothy started to kiss his penis. He arched his back a little as Timothy took his penis into his mouth and started to suck and lick it. As the sensation grew more intense, he clawed the sheets on the bed with both his hands.  
  
Timothy sucked harder and licked more, and a tension started to build up in Remus's body. He was surprised by the intensity of his own release as he shook and trembled all over. He growled in the back of his throat as Timothy let go of his penis.  
  
For a few minutes, they lie in silence, Remus stroking Timothy's back.  
  
"Oh, Merlin, I have to go," Timothy suddenly said, spotting the small alarm clock on the bedside table. He got up off the bed and started to put on his clothes, which were scattered all over the living room. Remus followed him, and watched him as he picked up his robes.  
  
When both were dressed – in Remus's case just his boxers and his shirt – it was time to say goodbye.  
  
"You know," Remus said after one last kiss, "that was very nice, and I think we both needed it."  
  
"True," Timothy admitted.  
  
They said goodbye at the door. When Timothy had just stepped outside, Remus stopped him, and said, "If you ever need something like this again, you know where to find me, and if I'm not here, owl me, an owl always knows how to find me."  
  
"Okay, thank you," Timothy Quirrel said. With one last glance at Remus Lupin, he walked down the small garden path.


End file.
